as Ross calls him, is one of those nice old gentlemen who wear large spectacles and cultivate specialist knowledge on the intensive system. Owing to his infallibility in all details and upon all occasions he was much sought after in peace time by the larger commercial houses. When War broke out our Mr. Brown disdained peace. He made at once for the Front; but his aged legs, though encased in quite the most remarkable puttees in France, were found to be less reliable than his head, and he was held up on his way to the trenches and diverted to the stool of Ross's office.
He began by putting some searching and dreadfully intelligent questions to Ross; dissatisfied with Ross's answers, he concentrated his mind on the business for twenty-four consecutive hours, at the end of which period he was the master of it in more senses than one. Since that time Ross has ensured the efficient running of his office by keeping out of it when it is busy. When for appearance sake he has to be there he does as his Mr. Brown tells him, and never wastes the latter's time by arguing.
In the Army, all fleas have bigger fleas upon their backs to bite 'em. Were this not so somebody would have to act upon his own responsibility, and that, as you will admit, would make war an impossibility. Accordingly in every department there is a series of authorities, starting with "other ranks" at the bottom, proceeding in an ascending scale of dignity and worth, and disappearing through a cloud of Generals into an infinite of which no man knoweth the nature. Thus, with Ross's business (to take the tail end of it) the letter which the Corporal writes the Lieutenant signs on behalf of the Major. It is when the Major wants to do something more active that trouble arises. Let us take an incidental matter of administrative detail for example, setting it forth, as all military matters should be set forth, in paragraphs, separately numbered:--
1. Lt. Ross possessed a bicycle, motor, one. No. 54321 L/Cpl. Burt possessed feet, two, only. Ross had no occasion, ability or disposition to ride a motor bicycle. No. 54321 could neither do his business nor enjoy life afoot. Accordingly, No. 54321 rode the bicycle, while, for the purposes of what is known to better people than ourselves as Establishment, Ross owned it. But that was in the good old days, before Traffic and Police and all the Others interested themselves.
2. The first thing Traffic did was to say that all owners of motor bicycles must own cards, and produce them when demanded. That was easy: No. 54321 got the card. Then Police issued some vague but menacing literature with regard to the fate of people who stole other people's property or failed to stick to their own. There was no difficulty about this; Ross publicly fathered the thing.
3. Traffic, issuing new cards, said next that all owners of cards must also own bicycles. Realising the quandary, Ross was for saying he wouldn't play any more, but would declare a separate peace. His Mr. Brown however got up a long and intricate correspondence, at the end of which Ross was still owner and No. 54321 was still rider; both had cards, and all the authorities had, unknowingly, made themselves parties to the fraud.
Suddenly the Major declared his intention of putting the whole of Ross's establishment (including bicycle) on what he called a satisfactory basis by a series of orders which he proposed to draft himself. Ross, always ready to be put on a satisfactory basis by anybody, took note of the draft, and laid it before his Mr. Brown. The latter was aghast, and proved, by infallible reasons, the fatal results which would follow if the matter was stirred up. Ross made a careful note of the reasons, and laid them before the Major. The Major explained gently that discipline was discipline. And so Ross went to and fro between the two, until the Major said, "Really, Ross!" and his Mr. Brown said, "I'm very sorry, Sir, but there it is;" and yet Ross couldn't sack his Major, and he couldn't break away from his Mr. Brown.
He was between the Devil and the Deep Sea. What was he to do about it? Well, he just told the Deep Sea to keep calm a little longer, and went and waited outside the Devil's Mess. He saluted and asked the Devil if he'd care to come for a walk, and, the latter consenting, he led him to the Deep Sea. Then, when the Devil himself had been introduced to the Deep Sea itself, Ross slipped off and left them in his office to fix it up between themselves.
Ross dined with the Major that night,
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